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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27914008">imaginary</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/eating_custardinbed/pseuds/eating_custardinbed'>eating_custardinbed</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Internet Made Me Write It [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>IT Crowd</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Childhood, Fluff, Hallucinations, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Non Happy Ending, Not Happy, Sad, Sad Ending, Schizophrenia, Schizophrenic Roy Trenneman, Slight fluff, Teenagers, Trigger Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 09:47:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,413</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27914008</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/eating_custardinbed/pseuds/eating_custardinbed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Moss has been Roy’s imaginary friend for what seems like forever...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Maurice Moss/Roy Trenneman</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Internet Made Me Write It [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1990789</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>imaginary</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this is a bit different to what else there is here in this fandom I think. please enjoy!!</p>
    </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I’ve tried to be very sensitive to the issues raised in this fic. If you feel you cannot handle these themes (which will include self-harm and suicidal ideation in the later chapter) please click away now. If you feel like I have misrepresented any themes, please let me know and I will try to correct this. Thank you for reading!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The first time Roy saw him, he was three years old. </p><p>He was sitting in his living room back at home, playing with some Legos. His mum was in the other room, getting his sisters all ready for school. He was too little to go to school yet. Really he hadn’t been paying too much attention, when he’d looked up and another kid had been sitting there. </p><p>It was a young boy. He had light brown skin, tightly curled hair and was wearing what looked like corduroy dungarees. To Roy, he seemed to be dressed very formally, and not at all prepared for the Irish winter. </p><p>“Hello?” Roy said after a moment of the two of them staring at each other. The boy didn’t reply, instead just continuing to stare at him. Roy shrugged as he went back to trying to build a car out of his Legos. “I’m Roy. How’d you get here?” </p><p>“I don’t know,” the boy replied. His voice was very quiet. Roy looked back up at him, his mouth dropping open. This kid was English! From what his Gramps said, the English were <em> bad </em>people. </p><p>“English,” was all he could say. </p><p>“Okay?” the boy said. He sounded supremely confused. </p><p>“What’s your name?” </p><p>“Moss.” </p><p>“Where are--” </p><p>“Roy, who are you talking to?” his mum said as she came back into the room. His three older sisters were trailing behind her. He looked up at her, pointing towards where Moss was. </p><p>“The boy there!” he said. </p><p>“There’s no-one there, idiot” his middle sister sneered, rolling her eyes at him. </p><p>“Yes there--” </p><p>Roy stopped talking when he looked over to where Moss had been sitting. Sure enough, there was nobody there. He looked slowly around the room, finally settling on looking at his mother with wide, teary eyes. </p><p>“Jess, be nice to your brother,” his mum snapped. She came forward, gesturing for him to get up. “You had an imaginary friend at his age too.” </p><p>He couldn’t help but look back as his mother led him out of the room, even though there was nobody there.</p><p>***</p><p>Throughout the next year, Moss would continue to appear to him every so often. Sometimes in his living room, sometimes in the bedroom he shared with his third-oldest sister, one remarkable time he had popped up whilst he had been out in town with his mother. He’d got some rather strange looks when he’d started talking to Moss, and his mother had awkwardly smiled at everyone and ferried him away, saying “he just has an active imagination” to everyone. </p><p>Now, though, it was his first day at school and he was standing by their front door. </p><p>“Alright, sweetie, smile!” his mum said. His dad was on one knee, holding the camera. </p><p>“No, no, wait!” Roy cried. </p><p>“Why?” his dad said. </p><p>“We have to wait for Moss!” </p><p>“Roy--” his dad started exasperatedly, but his mother shushed him.</p><p>“Leave him be, Michael,” she said, her voice gentle. She turned to her son with a bright smile. “Get him to stand next to you, sweetie.” </p><p>Roy grinned widely at her. He turned to the side, where Moss was standing looking all nervous by the side. He was in a school uniform too, although his was a little more smart than Roy’s. </p><p>“Come on!” Roy called with a smile. Moss edged forward a little, fussing with his hands in front of him.</p><p>“I don’t know if I should…” he said. </p><p>“Please?” </p><p>There was a moment, and then Moss nodded. He ran forward, standing next to his friend. Roy smiled widely, and Moss did the same. The camera clicked. </p><p>For some reason, Moss wasn’t in the picture when his dad got it printed</p><p>***</p><p>For the next few years, things stayed the same. Over time, Roy learned not to talk to Moss whilst he was in school, or really when they were anywhere in public. He didn’t mind this too much. Sometimes, especially at school, it was nice to just sit with Moss, the two of them occasionally smiling at each other. </p><p>The thing was, as he got older and older, his father seemed to get increasingly irate every time he mentioned Moss. When he’d been younger he was more tolerant of it, but as he got older he did not seem happy about it. It all came to a head when he was nine years old and his mother asked him about his day.</p><p>“It was fine,” he replied with a shrug, taking another bite of his food. None of his sisters were really paying attention to the conversation. “School was boring, but when I got home Moss helped me--”</p><p>“NO!” his father roared. Roy stopped talking immediately, feeling a strange sense of panic start to fill him. All three of his sisters paused eating in unison, looking up from their plates and staring at their father. His mother gaped at her husband. “I am <em> not </em>putting up with this any longer!” </p><p>“Dad--” Roy started to say, but his father cut him off. </p><p>“I don’t want to hear it!” he shouted. </p><p>“But I--” </p><p>“MOSS ISN’T A REAL PERSON!” Michael screamed. Roy stared down at his plate, sniffing deeply as so to suppress tears. “Roy Michael George Trenneman, you will <em> look </em>at me whilst I’m speaking to you!” Roy did so. He couldn’t keep the tears in completely now though, and one rolled down his cheek. </p><p>“My middle name’s Michael too,” Moss, who was loitering behind his father, said very quietly. </p><p>“This ‘Moss’,” (at this, Michael made speech marks in the air) “character is not <em> real, </em> Roy! He’s a figment of your imagination, and I don’t care how realistic he seems in your world, he is <em> fake </em>. You’re nearly ten! You’re too old for imaginary friends!” </p><p>Roy nodded, shaking a little. Sniffing again, he quickly tried to wipe away the tears that were running down his cheeks. His father tutted, shaking his head as he folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. “Go to your room. And after today, I don’t want to hear a <em> peep </em>about Moss. Ever. Again.” </p><p>Part of him wanted to ask about his dinner, but he was too scared and too upset to argue. He nodded, silently slipping out of his seat and walking to his bedroom, head down. He could feel his family’s eyes on him. Once in his room he curled up on his bed, squeezing his eyes tightly shut. </p><p>“It’s not your fault he shouted,” Moss said quietly. </p><p>Roy opened his eyes, rolling over. Moss was standing by his desk, his hands clasped behind his back as he leaned against the wall. </p><p>“What?” he whispered. Moss smiled softly at him. </p><p>“I know you,” he said. “You’re blaming yourself.” </p><p>“I wish I could understand people like you do.” </p><p>Moss laughed. </p><p>“You’re the only one I understand,” he said. Roy smiled at him, sniffing and brushing some more tears away from his cheeks. </p><p>“I just--”</p><p>As his bedroom door began to creak, he fell quickly silent. Moss gave him a small encouraging smile, adjusting his glasses. His mother came in, shutting the door behind her before coming over and sitting on the edge of the bed. Roy made a face, rolling over to look at the wall. </p><p>“Dad didn’t mean to shout at you, sweetheart,” she said. Roy stayed silent. She sighed a little, resting a hand on his shoulder. “He just wants the best for you.” </p><p>“No he doesn’t,” Roy grumbled. </p><p>“Yes he does, sweetheart,” his mother replied. “Sometimes, people can be very mean, and I know Moss seems real to you--” </p><p>“He is real!” Roy cried before he could stop himself, turning to face his mum. She smiled at him, a little bit of pity in her eyes as she gently brought her hand up and stroked his hair. </p><p>“But to other people he isn’t,” she continued. “And they might want to make fun of you for it.”</p><p>Roy was quiet for a little while. Then he nodded. His mother smiled at him, leaning down and kissing him gently on the forehead. “Get some rest, my love,” she whispered before getting up and leaving the room. </p><p>***</p><p>And so over the next six years, all mentions of Moss faded away. Sometimes his name would still slip out of Roy’s lips, but as he got older they were seen as more of jokey references rather than serious references. As he reached his teens, though, he found himself more able to stop himself before he said it. </p><p>Of course Moss never really went away. If anything, his appearances became more frequent. Whilst before he’d only popped up when Roy was alone or bored, now he was there almost all the time. He didn’t speak constantly, managing to stay quiet whilst Roy was at school, but every so often a teacher would say something and Moss would make such silly faces (not on purpose: he was just rather expressive when he thought no-one was looking) that Roy couldn’t help but laugh. That had got him into trouble and detentions rather too many times. </p><p>His parents had discovered it accidentally. It had been the middle of the night, actually. Roy had taken to getting up at this sort of time in order to be able to have quiet conversations with Moss. Deep down, he was sure that he knew this was irrational, but Moss was just so real, like he could just reach out and touch him… he never had, but that was because Moss didn’t like being touched. </p><p>“You need to do your Chemistry homework,” Moss said to him. Roy rolled his eyes, flopping over onto his back. He didn’t like it when Moss took this stern tone with him. </p><p>“I’ll do it tomorrow,” he answered quietly. </p><p>“You always say that. And you <em> never </em>do.” </p><p>“As if you do all your work on time.” </p><p>“I’ll have you know I’m a very punctual person!” </p><p>Roy chuckled, shaking his head. He rolled over onto his side, smiling at Moss. In his normal spot wedged between the desk and the chest of drawers leant against the wall, Moss smiled back, giggling and looking down at his feet.</p><p>“I don’t say this enough, but I’m proper glad you’re here,” Roy murmured. Moss looked up at him. </p><p>“Thank you?” he said. He sounded a little bewildered. </p><p>“Seriously. I know people don’t seem to be able to see you, but--” </p><p>“Roy? Who are you talking to?” </p><p>Roy immediately fell silent, but it was too late. It was his father who opened the door, which somehow made the situation a million times worse. </p><p>“No-one,” he said quickly, doing his best to sound all sleepy. It didn’t really work. He still sounded very awake. The light from the hallway was hurting his eyes a little. </p><p>“You’ve not got a phone in there, have you?” his father said sternly as he finished tying his dressing gown. Roy shook his head. </p><p>“You’re imaginin’ things, Dad,” he said. His father narrowed his eyes, but nodded and closed the door. Roy let out a sigh of relief, slumping down in the bed. He could feel Moss watching him. He waited for a moment before saying, “Well that was close, Moss.” </p><p>Roy hoped that that would be the end of it, but of course life was rarely so simple. As it was a Saturday he had been planning to sleep in, but he found himself awake bang on nine o’clock. He could hear his sister snoring in the other room. He got up, intending to go to the bathroom and then go back to his room to try to go back to sleep, but as he went past the closed kitchen door he heard his father say his name. He stopped, creeping over and pressing his ear against the door. </p><p>“--all the symptoms!” </p><p>His father sounded a little frantic. He heard his mother sigh, and there was a pause. Intrigued, he pressed himself closer to the door. </p><p>“I think you’re overreacting,” his mother said skeptically. “He’s just an imaginative boy!” </p><p>“He’s fifteen years old!” his father exclaimed. “It stopped being imaginative about eight years ago.” </p><p>“Are you <em> sure </em>that--” </p><p>“Joan, I’ve read up on this,” Michael said. His voice was soft now, more gentle than Roy had ever heard him be. “I’ve looked at articles, books, journals, everything… I know he’s our youngest, but he should have grown out of this years ago. This isn’t normal behaviour. He’s been talking like this every night for the past six months at the very least, if not longer.” </p><p>“What are you saying?” his mother asked, her voice hushed. He heard his father sigh, and he could imagine him leaning forward and taking her hand. </p><p>“I think our son might have schizophrenia.” </p><p>Roy stumbled back, unable to stop himself. Him, schizophrenic? No. That… no. That couldn’t be right. No. He looked over to Moss, who was standing in his pyjamas by the wall. Roy shook his head almost imperceptibly, but Moss didn’t react. Instead he just watched him sadly. Roy shook his head, stepping backwards again as he pressed his hand over his mouth. He could feel the tears welling up. </p><p>He must have hit the creaky floorboard, because a moment later the kitchen door flew open. His parents were of course standing there, staring at him. Roy took a moment, shaking his head again. </p><p>“I’m not crazy,” he said. His voice cracked at the end of the sentence, and he let out a sob. His mum was the first one to move, coming forward and pulling him into a hug. Unusually he clutched at her, resting his chin on her shoulder as he let out another sob. “I’m not.” </p><p>“No-one is saying you’re crazy,” his mother replied soothingly. </p><p>“Roy, I’m going to ask you a question now,” his father said gently. Roy looked up to him. From the corner of his eye, he could see Moss watching him sadly. “And you need to answer honestly, okay?” His mother let him go, and Roy nodded shakily. Michael took a deep breath. “Is Moss here now?” </p><p>There was a pause. </p><p>“Yeah,” Roy whispered almost inaudibly. His mother let out a small noise but his father remained calm, nodding. He took a step forward. Moss jumped forward, springing in front of Roy’s father.</p><p>“Roy, you can’t do this!” he cried. “They’ll make me go away and you know-- you know what will happen if I leave! I don’t want you to end up hurting yourself because I wasn’t there to help you through something!” </p><p>Roy began to tremble, his breathing getting heavier. Michael took another step forward, Moss only diving out of the way just in time. </p><p>“What’s he saying?” Michael asked. Roy shook his head, making a small sobbing noise as he looked down. “It’s okay. You can tell us what he’s telling you.” </p><p>“Deny everything!” Moss cried. “Don’t let them find out!” </p><p>“He’s telling me not to tell you about him,” Roy said, his voice quiet. Michael nodded encouragingly. “He… he said he’s worried I’ll get hurt. If he leaves.” </p><p>“Hurt by what?” Joan asked. </p><p>“Myself, he says,” Roy replied. He looked up. Moss had fallen silent again, looking at him with that horrible sad look in his eyes. “I’m sorry.”</p><p>“You’re sick,” his father said. He gave him an encouraging smile. “You have nothing to be sorry about. It’s not your fault.” </p><p><em> I wasn’t apologising to you, </em>Roy thought as he watched a single tear roll down Moss’ cheek. </p><p>***</p><p>Over the next month Roy had so many doctor’s meetings and appointments that he felt like he was spending more time sitting in offices with random wires stuck to his head than he was anywhere else. Moss was following him all the time, but he hadn’t talked since that morning. Before Moss had never been scary: he’d been a comforting presence. Now, though, with his furious eyes and silent lurking, Roy would find himself becoming rather scared by him. </p><p>At this point, they were down in Dublin. The doctors had wanted to send him to London for more testing, but his parents had been dubious about leaving Ireland and so arrangements had been made. He’d spent the morning being attached to electrodes, asked far too many questions and being put through strange machines that made very loud noises. Moss hadn’t liked the loud machines very much: Roy could tell from the look in his eyes. Eventually, they took him into a small room and told him to wait there on his own for a little while whilst they talked to his parents. </p><p>Moss was standing in the corner, staring fixedly at the wall. Roy did his very best to ignore him, but he hadn’t been able to talk to him for a whole month and it was driving him a little nuts. His mum didn’t like him saying things like that now, but as he had pointed out to her, it’s okay to call yourself nuts if you <em> are </em>nuts. </p><p>“Moss, c’mon,” he eventually said after five minutes of cold silence. There was no reply. Roy sighed heavily, flopping back onto the sofa. “Look I’m sorry, okay?”</p><p>“I don’t know what you’re apologising for,” Moss replied. For the first words he’d spoken in a month, they were very icy. </p><p>“<em> Moss </em>!” </p><p>“You’re going to abandon me,” Moss said. He turned to look at Roy. His eyes were full of tears. “You know what is going to happen now?” Roy shook his head. “They’ll keep evaluating you for a little bit longer, then they’ll slap you with however many diagnoses. Before you know it, you’ll be on a number of medications and you’ll never see me again.” </p><p>“How do you know all of this?” Roy asked. He didn’t want to think about never seeing Moss again. For him, he was the thing that had… well, always been there. He couldn’t even imagine what it would be like without him there. </p><p>Moss smiled sadly at him, shaking his head. Roy made a face, but decided to leave it there. </p><p>Really, he should have <em> known </em>that there would be cameras in that room. </p><p>***</p><p>Three weeks later, it became official. </p><p>“So we’ve done all our tests,” the doctor said. Roy and his parents were sitting in front of him. Roy’s parents seemed to be much more nervous than their son, who appeared to be almost bored with the entire situation. “And we’ve come to a conclusion, and an official diagnosis.” The doctor paused, clearing his throat. “Roy, I am diagnosing you with schizophrenia.” </p><p>“Alright,” Roy replied with a shrug. He slouched in his chair a little more. “So what?” </p><p>“We’re going to put you on an antipsychotic drug,” the doctor said. “Chlorpromazine. This will hopefully help to reduce your hallucinations and regulate your moods.” He slid a brochure across the desk and Roy’s father took it. “You’ll be starting on the standard dose of one tablet three times a day, but obviously this might get adjusted if needs be.” </p><p>“Sounds good,” Roy said. His voice was slightly muted. </p><p>“Roy,” the doctor said. He said it with such a serious tone that Roy actually snapped out of his funk, looking up at the doctor with wide eyes. “You <em> cannot </em>stop taking your medication unless we tell you to, okay? You might think you’re better, but that just means that the meds are working. You could experience withdrawal symptoms, and your schizophrenic symptoms could drastically worsen. Do you understand me?” </p><p>Roy nodded, a little scared now. The doctor nodded. There was a pause before the doctor resumed talking, more to Roy’s parents now as he started explaining possible side effects. At this point Roy switched off, no longer listening to what the doctor was saying. Pills, right. He could manage pills. God, he had a horrible feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. What was he going to do without Moss there? He glanced over to where Moss was sitting against the wall as he bit his lip. He looked… pretty. Roy wasn’t sure how else to describe it. Maybe it wasn’t that? Honestly, his head was all just in a mess right now. </p><p>“You’ll be okay,” the doctor said as Roy and his parents were getting ready to leave. Already halfway to the door, Roy turned back to look at him. </p><p>“You really think so?” he said before he could stop himself. The doctor smiled gently at him, nodding. </p><p>“You will be, son. You will be.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I really hope you enjoyed this!!! please leave comments and/or kudos, they really make me happy!! next chapter should be up soon :)</p><p>stay safe and happy, y’all xx</p></blockquote></div></div>
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